


Corner a Cat (and Bear Its Scratches)

by wistfulwatcher



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-27
Updated: 2012-09-29
Packaged: 2017-11-15 03:41:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/522753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wistfulwatcher/pseuds/wistfulwatcher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At a Halloween party, Regina and Emma get trapped together. Neither are very happy about it, and some angry words are tossed around. Set around 1x12, Skin Deep. Two-shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for prompts "coming out of the..." and "Halloween, closet."

“Henry! What a cool costume,” Mary Margaret said as she reached out, her fingertips brushing the crunchy, gel-coated hair on the boy’s head.

With a wide smile he leaned forward onto the balls of his feet and chirped, “I’m Wolverine!”

“I can see that,” she smiled. “And what a handsome Wolverine you make.” A throat clearing beside Henry drew the teacher’s attention to Storybrooke’s Mayor, head held high, clad as a chic sort of pirate. Mary Margaret shifted a bit, uncomfortable, and put her hand gently on Henry’s shoulder. “We’re not quite set up yet. Do you think you could go give Ms. Singer a hand with the fish pond game?”

Without a moment of hesitation or a look to his mother, Henry nodded with a big smile and took off to toward the shock of bright red hair on the other end of the classroom.

With the boy gone, Mary Margaret focused her full attention back on the Mayor standing before her. Her “costume” was clearly unplanned, but she still looked every bit a pirate, from the heeled boots on her feet to the silk scarf tied in a band across her forehead. A loose white button-up beneath an open brown vest, gold hoop earrings, and heavy eyeliner completed the look.

Despite the costume, Regina still looked every bit as intimidating as usual, and maybe even then some. Mary Margaret shifted anxiously, the wings of her angel costume making a rustling that echoed in the open room. Straightening out her halo, she gave Regina a small smile. “Thank you for agreeing to chaperone, Madam Mayor. I’m sorry the request was so last minute, but with,” she voice caught, “the Nolan’s party this year, most of the parents that usually agree to help out weren’t available.”

Regina gave a slight raise of an eyebrow, but other than that made no other movement. “Yes, well, Henry’s been talking about this party for weeks, now. I could hardly let you cancel it, now, Miss Blanchard, could I? Although I do question the necessity of the adults wearing costumes.”

Mary Margaret’s smile was tentative. “Well, it was nice of you to do it, anyway.” Regina sneered, her civility limit with the schoolteacher being reached for the evening.

“What, exactly, is it that you require assistance with for this event?”

Regina watched as the younger woman tilted her head slightly with a roll of her shoulders, a look that was most likely supposed to be endearing, but simply reminded her far too much of the other woman’s daughter. “Um, would you be willing to run the apple bobbing station?”

With a smirk, Regina took off toward the large tub in the corner, murmuring  _how appropriate_  meant just for her own ears.

*

Regina was examining the last apple to be added to the tub when she heard her son’s voice, low but light, announcing the arrival of the Sheriff.

“Hey, kid! Cool claws!” Her back stiffened at the blonde’s casual tone, as if she had no recollection of the recent conversation they’d had; the conversation where Regina had made it very clear that Emma Swan was to have no interaction with her son without her express permission.

And she had given no such word.

Regina dropped the last apple into the tub on the floor, and wiped her hands with a paper towel as she turned around to see her son talking to his birth mother, casually, in the middle of the classroom.

The clacking of her heels preceded her, and Emma turned a moment before Regina acknowledged her with the warning tone of, “Miss Swan.”

“Madam Mayor.” Emma stood tall across from the brunette, squaring her shoulders. The effect was somewhat dulled as Regina took in her costume: black boots, tight black pants, a loose black sweater, and a black headband containing two velvet cat ears.

“Henry, I believe your classmates are starting to arrive. Would you like to go show them your costume?” Henry hesitated a moment, looking up at Emma, before nodding with a small smile and running over towards a ninja, the red Power Ranger, and a little Ron Weasley.

With Henry gone, Regina turned back toward Emma. “Have you forgotten so quickly, Miss Swan, the new rule we have in place?” Emma rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, one booted foot shifting forward to support her new stance.

“I’m just trying to help out, all right? Mary Margaret said she needed volunteers. Obviously, if she called you.”

Regina’s jaw tightened in an unamused smirk. “And what, might I ask, is it that you will be able to help out with, Sheriff?”

Emma reached toward the table to her right, and picked up a palette of colors. “Face painting.”

Crossing her hands in front of her, Regina rolled her shoulders back and stood up taller. “Well, enjoy that, Miss Swan. And I better not see you giving any extra sweets to Henry—I’ve already informed him of what he’s allowed to eat tonight, and I doubt it looks anything like your diet,” she eyed the bottle of soda and cupcake wrapper sitting beside the face paint before turning on her heel and heading back toward the tub of apples.

*

After the party had been going on for almost an hour, Regina realized why Mary Margaret had made the assignments she had; less than five children had dared to bob for apples, whereas the face painting booth had been a non-stop train of kids.

If she were being honest, the lack of children didn’t truly bother Regina, since it gave her a chance to watch both her son and her enemy, to make sure Emma didn’t break the rule Regina had just imposed. However, the small frustration she’d felt at having to help out the school teacher (though it was only a byproduct of her actions) was blossoming under Regina’s boredom as she realized that neither Henry nor Emma were actually committing any infractions.

Rather, Henry was flitting around the room with various peers (he didn’t have any close friends, but at least he could socialize to some extent, Regina noted with relief), stopping at the many games located around the room.

Well, except for the apple bobbing station.

Ignoring that dull ache it left in her chest, Regina turned to watch the Sheriff once more, with a sneer resting gently on her lips. The blonde had, at some point, used the face paint on herself, and Regina could see three black lines on either cheek and a black triangle on her sharp nose, completing her cat costume.

Emma gave a hesitant, crooked smile as a small red-headed girl took a seat in front of her, and made a gesture toward the blonde, indicating what to paint on her face. Emma’s hands hesitated on the brush before reaching for the child’s chin. At the last moment she pulled her hand back and rested a fist on her own knee, rounding her shoulders.

Regina’s sneer turned into a smug sort of pout—Emma Swan was incredibly awkward around children. Surprisingly, this gave her little comfort. Rather, Regina’s jaw tightened in anger; if the blonde was so uncomfortable around children, why was she working so hard to take Henry away?

The though settled harshly in her chest, and the Mayor’s skin burned as she realized how much she was itching for a fight; between dealing with Mary Margaret, being ignored by her son, and having his relationship to this unknown woman flaunted before her, she wouldn’t be satisfied until she’d had a chance to insult and yell at the Sheriff, to expel some of this excess energy.

Alas, the blonde never sought out her son, nor did Henry do more than give her the occasional smile or wave.

*

By the time the party was almost finished, Regina had gotten a few more kids to her station, including a rather slobbery one that had quite a difficult time until she’d suggested the boy use the side of the tub to help him.

She’d rather have let him either figure it out himself or quit, but Regina was getting impatient with the fact that Henry had yet to come see her (however expected it was, it still stung), and there was no chance of it happening with the bucket occupied by a very damp Batman.

“Happy Halloween,” she bit out, her lips curved in a thin smile as the young hero wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand and walked away.

With a subtle glance around the room, Regina found that Henry had moved back to the cake walk station (he’d been at it twice already that night), and was currently engrossed in a game.

With an internal sigh, she lifted the tub from the floor and made her way out of the classroom. After Batman’s attempts at bobbing, she didn’t quite feel comfortable with Henry putting his face in that water; might as well refill the tub while she waited for him to finish his game.

Regina’s heels clicked beneath her as she made it out to the hallway and passed three doors to reach the janitor’s closet. The door was propped open, and Regina stepped inside with the tub, pouring the water out into the large sink directly against the wall.

The silence of the room was a welcome relief and Regina’s shoulders fell, happy to be away from yet another repeat of the “Monster Mash”.

Her face twisted just a bit in disgust, Regina lifted the apples from the tub and rinsed them off, running them under the faucet for a bit. With a brief raise of her eyebrow she noted the low quality of the fruit, her own tree’s superior offerings leaving a sense of pride the dulled the frustration ever so slightly.

The sound of boots slapping against the linoleum drifted over to Regina, cresting over the rushing water, before being joined by a stifled huffing noise.

Instantly, Regina stood back up to her full height and turned around, where she knew she would find the Sheriff. “Miss Swan.” Regina watched as Emma’s face tightened and she, too, stood up straight, preparing for a fight.

 _Good_. “I do believe that paint was intended for the children, was it not?” Slowly, she turned back to face the sink, turning the faucet on again to refill the tub.

There was a soft sliding noise that Regina couldn’t place, and when she looked over, Emma had moved a little further into the room and was a few feet behind her.

“I wouldn’t have pegged you as the pirate type, Madam Mayor,” Her lips twitching as her fingers fidgeted with the dirty paintbrushes she must have come into the closet to rinse off.

Regina’s fingers curled over the handles on the tub as she pulled it up slowly from the basin. The tub was heavy, but she could manage, and she shot back, “Yes, well, Miss Blanchard made it quite clear that costumes were mandatory, despite the lack of preparation time I was given.” She hesitated a moment before crossing towards the door and added, defensively, “It was Henry’s idea.”

Regina could see Emma following her movement, and she repressed the urge to roll her eyes. If the blonde wasn’t going to put any bite in her words, Regina was going to go back and check on her son. She was facing a closed door, however; Emma must have knocked it from the doorstop when she came in. Regina turned back to her. “The door, Miss Swan?”

Setting down the cup of dirty water and brushes she’d been holding, Emma crossed to the door, dropping her hand to the handle and twisting.

And twisting. And jiggling the doorknob with a bit of force. “What on earth did you do?” The tub was becoming increasingly heavy as time went on, and Regina was anxious to set the container down in the room.

Emma looked up at her from the handle between her fists, wide-eyed as she shook her head. “I don’t know. It could be stuck?”

With a harsh breath out, Regina set the basin down on the cement ground and waved her hand, effectively shooing Emma away. However, a small twist of her wrist yielded similar results; the door knob was not turning.

Regina turned on her heels and faced Emma, pursing her lips with an eyebrow raise. “Congratulations, Sheriff, you’ve locked us in here. The door was propped open for a reason,” she hissed, as if she’d known all along that the door locked.

Emma groaned and reached for the knob again, her fingers clashing against Regina’s for just a second. Regina watched in slight amusement (but mostly frustration) as the blonde failed to open the door. “I told you that it was locked, Sheriff. It’s not going to budge.” Emma finally eased up before leaning back against the wall.

“I don’t see any movement in the hallway,” she watched through the small window in the door. The closet was located around the corner of the hallway and a bit down from Mary Margaret’s room, and there were two doors leading outside that were equidistant from the classroom, making the possibility of passersby a toss-up.

“HEY!” Regina jumped back as Emma pounded on the door, shouting.

“Miss Swan!” Emma eased back. “They’re several feet away from this door in a room with relatively loud music. The likelihood of them hearing your shouts are rather slim, and I could easily do without such volume near my ears!” Emma walked across the room, pacing. With a sigh, Regina’s hand fell to her hip. “I don’t suppose you have your phone with you?”

Emma crossed her arms and shook her head. “I left it on the table. You?”

Hesitating, Regina closed her eyes. “I left mine in my purse. Which is sitting on a counter in the classroom.”

“Well that’s just great.” Resisting the urge to roll her eyes at the blonde’s tone, Regina watched Emma pace back and forth in the room.

“I doubt you’ll be able to wear a hole in the floor to free us, Sheriff.” Emma’s eyes shot over to her in a tempered glare, though she did stop pacing.

“Hell, Regina, I don’t know what else to do.” Regina tensed at the rare use of her first name from the other woman, and leaned against the door, looking out of the window to see if she could catch anyone’s attention.

The frustration that she’d felt all night had yet to dissipate, or even ease, and Regina was genuinely worried about the end result of the night if they didn’t get out of the room before too long.


	2. Chapter 2

Long minutes passed, feeling much more like hours, and the two women stayed mute, the only noises in the room coming from the sink as Emma used the time to rinse off the brushes she’d come in to wash.

The chore only took minutes, though, and soon the two were thrust back into awkward silence, Regina still watching from her place at the door, and Emma leaning back against the strong basin. She could feel Emma’s eyes on her, and the fire danced along her skin, hotter, in what she assumed to be her continued frustration with the blonde’s presence and perseverance.

“Is there something you’d like to say, Miss Swan?” Regina finally pulled her focus from the window to look over at Emma. “And would you take those ridiculous ears off?”

“It’s a costume party. And you’re one to talk, Blackbeard.” The reference was a bit of a surprise, in both its origins and its daring, and Regina raised a brow as the other woman licked her lips, preparing to continue. Her chest puffed out with a long breath, as if Emma was bracing herself for something, her hands coming to rest on her hips.

“I was wrong about the playground, ok? I’m sorry. But not letting me see Henry—it’s not fair to punish him. He’s curious about me, about who he is. Can’t you understand that?”

Regina’s eyes narrowed and she finally stepped away from the door, closer to Emma. The flames in her body sparked higher, as she bit out her next words. “Let’s get one thing very straight, Sheriff, as you seem to not grasp the concept; Henry is _my_ son. He was raised as such, and no matter what his genetic connection to you, that fact will never change. Who he is, is my _family_ , and you allowing, let alone encouraging other thoughts is both inappropriate and short-sighted.”

Emma shifted, her own eyes narrowing as she crossed her arms, though she kept her mouth shut as the mayor continued. “You may believe that bloodline is important, but even more crucial is your environment, isn’t it?” A dangerous smile, knowing and cruel, broke across her lips as she leaned away from Emma, standing straighter as she continued. “Despite what my son believes now, his life, unlike yours, was safe and healthy, and included a stable mother that loves him.

“ _That_ is who Henry is, and as his mother, it’s my job to protect him from the things in his childhood that will only lead him down a difficult path. And that, Miss Swan, would be you.”

With a breath, Regina turned back to the door, her body already relaxing, the toxic words that had been building safely finding an outside target. The spent energy felt different, though, in this space, this confinement. Even turned away from the blonde, Regina could feel Emma watching her, feel her glare as blood coursed through Regina’s veins hotly.

“And despite what you believe, Madam Mayor, I’ve met my fair share of ‘mothers’ like you.” Regina hesitated a moment before turning back to face the woman on the other side of the room. “Adults that thought they knew what was best for everyone, for all children. That thought they could perfectly shape a child anyway they wanted to. But it never works. They shape and shape until that child snaps.”

This time Emma walked forward, pushing off against the concrete basin at her back. “So excuse _me_ , Regina, if I don’t buy that load of bullshit you’ve constructed to make you feel better for how you’ve raised your son—as a control freak, being a mother in the least inconvenient way possible.”

Nostrils flaring, Regina took a step forward, ready to fire right back. A rush of footprints stopped her, though, and she turned back to the window just in time to see the last few stragglers heading down the doorway toward the exit.

Her words were terse and slow when Regina broke the thick silence. “It appears that Miss Blanchard didn’t notice our disappearance. She’s just taken the children out of the building.”

“Shit! That means it’s eight o’clock.” This time an eye roll escaped, and Regina bit back a nasty retort, seeing as they’d be trapped in here at least another forty-five minutes as the children went door-to-door trick or treating.

Her blood was still boiling as she watched Emma sit down on the concrete floor, her elbows resting on her propped up knees. “I can’t believe they left without us,” Emma groaned, their previous argument pushed to the side like so many before it. “How could they not wonder where we went?”

Regina turned more to her left, effectively shutting the blonde out. “I would not be surprised if Miss Blanchard simply didn’t notice. I do hope she keeps better track of the children. If Henry gets hurt out there—“

“Jesus, Regina, he’s fine. There were at least three other adults with her, and Henry’s class is only two dozen kids.” Regina turned back to see the sheriff’s knees propped up, her forearms resting on either one as she looked up at the ceiling.

“Well, Miss Swan, I’m so glad to know how cavalier you are about my son’s safety. Especially on one of the most dangerous nights of the year, with what passes for our town’s law enforcement indisposed.”

Emma scoffed. “Yeah, I’m sure Henry has no idea how to take care of himself.” Looking back down from the ceiling, she met the brunette’s eyes. “Actually, you know what, he might not, come to think of it. That’s what happens, you know, when you coddle a kid too much—they don’t learn how to protect themselves.”

Regina flinched slightly at the last part, but Emma just stood up and continued, walking closer to the mayor as she spoke. “Maybe that’s what he needs, you know? He needs for you to let him learn some stuff for himself, needs you to let him go.”

“Like you let him go?” Regina’s eyebrow rose, her lips twitching in a humorless smirk. “And risk losing him? We don’t all get a second chance, Miss Swan.”

Now it was Emma’s turn to scoff at the phrase, her arms crossing defensively in front of her. “No, you’re right about that, Madam Mayor. We don’t all get a second chance. So I’d say it’s in your best interest to cut the kid some slack—after all, it would be a shame if, when he got a little older, had a little bit more sway in a court case, that he still chose me over you.”

Both sets of eyes were dangerous, boring into each other as the distance between them lessened with the click of Regina’s boots. “Listen closely, Miss Swan, because I will not have anyone, least of all someone like you, try to threaten me, my son, or our relationship.”

Her steps slowed but didn’t cease, and Emma felt herself being backed up against the large sink, her back pressing against the cool ledge. “You are not to contact my son, talk to my son, or use any other person to do so.” Her voice lowered to a near-whisper, and Emma felt her warm breath on her face as she continued.

“I have been very, _very_ patient with you, Sheriff, and I have not involved the _real_ authorities in an extended olive branch, as my son thinks he should know you. An idea that I assure you I do not share.

“But keep in mind that you chose a closed adoption, and I am well within my rights to halt any interaction between the two of you at any time. And that case would be completely of your own doing, I might add.”

Regina gave one last, acidic look at the blonde before stepping back and moving toward the door, again, her shoulders taut with suppressed anger and frustration.

Emma said nothing further, but Regina could hear the other woman shuffling behind her, flipping over a plastic tub of some sort to sit on.

*

Long minutes passed in silence, and Regina continued to carry that frustration heavily across her back. The fight they’d entered into was over too quickly, and left her skin itching and hot, the rage too strong to stay inside her being for much longer.

Emma, on an irritating note, had not said one more thing to her, opting instead to make absolutely no noise. Of course, this left Regina to stew in silence, picturing her son out, having fun, the main ingredient in which was being around anyone beside her.

Shifting in her heeled boots, Regina felt the arch of her foot start to ache from the constant standing with nothing to focus on but her anger.

Sudden shuffling behind her had her jerking her head back, watching as Emma stood up and walk across the room to lean against a metal shelf. The janitor’s closet wasn’t huge, but even with Emma crossing toward her end, the other woman was still a good five feet away from Regina.

“I thought you and Kathryn were friends.” Her statement broke the stillness around them, and Regina crossed her arms over her waist, meeting Emma’s eyes. The blonde’s gaze was unwavering but not cruel, and Regina felt the smallest bit of anger fade.

Her earlier words, as Emma’s, had been too pointed, too brutal for such a short time together in such a small space, and, honestly, all Regina wanted now was to be let out. This latest round with the other woman was leaving her edgy in a way she wasn’t used to, without the possibility of escape. Regina didn’t do well in confined situations.

“We are,” she let out with velvet tones, slow but steady. Her arms stayed put, guarding, but Emma gave a shrug of her shoulder as if Regina’s reticence meant nothing.

“So,” she drawled, leaning back on the heels of her boots. _She fidgets like Henry_ , was Regina’s unbidden thought. “Why aren’t you at the party like the rest of the town?”

“Because, Miss Swan, a mother does not go out and _party_ when her son needs her.” Regina’s tone was smug, superior, and Emma rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, but Mary Margaret called you at the last minute, right? Why weren’t you going before she called?”

“Henry’s been looking forward to this event since last month—I was planning to take him trick-or-treating afterwards. I wouldn’t have simply dropped him off and gone off gallivanting all night. What kind of mother would do such a thing?”

The continued smugness and new smirk in the corner of her mouth communicated very clearly that Regina thought she was looking at such a mother, but Emma simply tilted her head, her elbow propped on a shelf as she narrowed her eyes a bit at the mayor.

“I’m not planning on taking Henry away from you, you know.” Her expressions was pointed, certain, and it made Regina nervous—her words and expression betrayed honesty, her true intentions, but it still couldn’t be the truth, must be a ploy.

Tilting her head up slightly, Regina gave Emma a level look, making sure her own insecurities did not play across her features, didn’t expose a weakness to this predator across from her. “So you’ve said, Miss Swan.”

Silence, and then Regina stepped forward. “That begs the question, then, dear, of why you are staying in this town.”

Emma narrowed her eyes, watching Regina’s movements. “I think we both know why.” Clicking her tongue, Emma met the Mayor’s now-burning gaze with a smirk of her own and crossed her feet at the ankle, a pose of superiority that Regina most certainly did not approve of. “You don’t like your town, do you Madam Mayor?”

The change in topic startled Regina, and her glare dropped, just slightly at the shift. “What an absurd notion. I love Storybrooke, and always have.”

“The town, sure, the land and ownership.” Regina shifted as the sheriff took a step forwards, her fingers sliding across the metal. “But the people? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you talk to any of them just to chat, or give them a genuine smile.” She gave a wide, dangerous grin, her small, flat teeth peeking out between red lips. “That’s really why you refused the Nolan’s invitation, isn’t it?”

The question was rhetorical, but Emma stepped closer, in front of the brunette and crossed her arms, matching position. Regina, noticing the move, dropped her own arms to her sides, standing up tall and cursing the short booties that left her at an even height with the blonde.

Their movements stopped, closer than ever, now, and the iciness that had come over her as they talked about Henry was beginning to heat again, a constant temperature change when she spoke to the infuriating woman before her.

“At least I received an invitation, dear.” Her words, like Emma’s were pointed but no longer sharp like they’d been—there was an almost playfulness they were reaching.

Regina blamed the confined space, the feeling of being trapped that was slowly curling around her, as her behavior shifted, her body loosening slightly. A cold smile spread across her lips, and Regina could see her former self, her regal persona scratching at the surface; a rolling, cat-like need to bat at her prey, action that would give her the superiority, the power that she so craved right now.

Emma’s throat bobbed with a harsh swallow, her own intuition cluing her in to a bigger shift, a move to something _else_. “How quickly did you agree to help your dear roommate, hmm? How anxious were you when someone showed even the slightest bit of needing you, of _wanting_ you?”

Regina stepped forward, moving into Emma’s space. The blonde made small steps backwards, edging closer and closer to the wall as the Mayor spoke. “I believe I do know why you’ve stayed, Miss Swan, but you overestimate my son’s need for you, and his want—well, I’m sure you’re the first to realize how soon you run from those that want you.”

The wall pressed against Emma’s back, the chilled concrete biting through her sweater as Regina’s grin came closer. The blonde’s eyes fell to red lips, and a puff of hot breath hit Regina’s cheek. The sudden realization that Emma was taking shallow breaths, her chest moving quickly, her eyes wide and dark hit the brunette, and the heat in her veins suddenly clicked, made sense. Quirking an eyebrow at the knowledge, she leaned back, away from the other woman. “Well, then, I suspect I’ll see that ugly yellow car speeding out of town any day now.”

One last smirk graced her face before she turned completely, her heart pounding at the rush of being truly desired swept her body, foreign as it had been for almost thirty years.

Before Regina could cross back to her spot at the door she felt firm fingers grasp at her wrist, dragging her back until she was flush against  the space Emma had so recently occupied.

There was barely enough time to let out a bark of protest before Emma’s mouth descended on her own, red lips against red lips as the blonde tightened her grip on Regina’s wrist, pressed between the women as Emma’s other hand twitched over Regina’s hip.

Her tongue was merciless, driven as it roughly traced Regina’s lower lip, their kiss brutal and unforgiving, the culmination of every halted argument in the past months.

A rush of heat shot up the brunette’s back as she felt Emma’s fingers tangle in the baggy shirt she wore beneath the vest, scrambling until her palm could rest hotly on Regina’s bare waist. Her thoughts were a jumble as she became lightheaded, sharing breath with the sheriff, but a steady theme of _more_ broke through.

It was almost like falling, slipping back into the role of woman instead of mother and mayor, a heady surge of being wanted that was both familiar and startling. Something felt different, here, with Emma, her tough but gentle fingers dancing along her stomach as her other hand tugged her closer, ever closer to the blonde’s body.

Regina was feeling the lack of oxygen, her need to part from the blonde overwhelming her desire not to, and when she could drop her head back to the wall, she licked her bottom lip, catching Emma’s too-sugary taste. Their eyes connected, giving them a moment of pause as Regina stood up straighter, away from the wall as her pulse beat steadily beneath Emma’s thumb.

“We need to stop,” but her voice was too breathy, too hesitant to be firm, and Emma let go of her wrist to drag her fingers upward across her arm. Her hand free, she made to pull it back before she felt the blonde’s leg shift, resting against hers as a heavy breath fell from barely parted lips.

“…Can we?” was the tentative question before Regina’s palm fell to the top of Emma’s jeans in defeat, the answer an obvious _no_ to any meaning of the question. No, they could not stop fighting, no, they could not be anything else.

“ _No_ ,” not when it was _this_ , when _they_ felt like this. There was a hesitancy in Emma’s eyes, a sudden fear that Regina shared at the realization of what this meant, this discovery between them. But as quickly as it appeared it disappeared, Emma’s lips dropping to press hot kisses against Regina’s throat, her tongue laving the long line of her neck as Regina’s fingers spread, her palm pressing flat over the black sweater Emma wore.

Lips brushing the collar of Regina’s shirt, Emma pressed her leg closer to Regina’s, her foot sliding between the brown boots the mayor wore as Regina felt herself slide forward, her knees quaking as her other hand slid to match the first. With a firm tug the last hesitancy was vanquished, pulling Emma by her hips toward her, their chests brushing with the movement.

“The fights…this is why?” Emma’s question was hallow, the answer already clear to both women as the familiar fire licked in Regina’s veins, her eyes watching as Emma started to unbutton the white shirt, the vest already falling open at her sides.

Ever in control, Regina’s fingers popped the button on the blonde’s too-tight jeans, before tugging at the waistband to get just a bit more access. “If only, dear,” was murmured, Regina dipping down, her hot center landing on Emma’s strong thigh. Her hiss drew Emma’s attention once more, and the two maintained eye contact as everything slowed, suddenly.

The sound of their heavy breaths was thick, heady, and Emma’s lashes fluttered when Regina’s fingers teased the soft skin of her stomach before they slid beneath the open fly of the jeans.

A choked out _oh_ and strong exhale were drawn from Emma’s throat, deep and guttural and in time with the firm pressure the brunette put against the damp front of Emma’s cotton panties. “ _Yes_ ,” Regina sighed, full of power as Emma’s own fingers pulled away from her flesh to fall, palms forward, against the concrete wall.

Her movements were sharp against Regina’s fingers, her being taut as she let her body sink against the older woman’s, raising her leg in enough of an angle to grind once against Regina. “Yes,” she repeated, her other hand pressing against Emma’s lower back, bringing her even closer as Regina’s fingers made tight circles through the panties. With a grin, Regina took in Emma’s low groans in time with the movements hitting her clit through the rough fabric. “I believe you do know something about _wanting,_ Miss Swan.”

Emma’s hair fell over her shoulders as she rolled her hips, her head hung just a bit. “I’m not the only one, Regina,” she bit out as she let her hands drop back to where she’d abandoned Regina’s buttons halfway. “Am I?” she asked, as she popped the last button, and gripped the collar of the shirt, pulling it apart to reveal creamy breasts encased in burgundy lace.

Regina’s fingers slid back, her hand on Emma’s spine drawing away as both women waited for Emma to demand an answer. Instead, she tilted her head, her eyebrow raising in a knowing smirk before Regina felt her lips brush the tops of her breasts, taking little nips against her flesh before tugging at both cups of the bra. Without the material barring her, Emma’s lips enclosed a peaked nipple and Regina’s hips rolled down, connecting hard, once more, with Emma’s leg.

Conflicted at the sudden turn of events, Regina’s hands itched to reach for the blonde curls on Emma’s head, settling instead for reaching the absurd headband that still adorned her crown, and dropping it to the floor.

The cat ears made a dull thud as they hit the hard floor, but it was lost in a moan and Regina’s fingers returned to Emma’s heat, this time sliding beneath the cotton to touch the slick wetness between Emma’s thighs.

A harsh groan vibrated against Regina’s breast as Emma’s tongue stilled, Regina’s fingers quickly finding their pace against her swollen clit. “Not like you, I’m sure. You’re _dripping_ ,” she smirked, her tongue peeking between her bared teeth to wet her lips.

Emma’s own mouth continued on down past her breasts, ignoring her somewhat-jibe as the cool air hit the saliva left behind, spurring Regina’s movements on. She pressed tighter, harder circles as the blonde’s hips started to grind against her faster, searching for release as her head dropped back in the smallest thrill of power and victory.

“Jesus,” Emma murmured, reversing her path and leaving finger-shaped bruises on Regina’s hips as her tongue landed once more against the soft curve of Regina’s neck.

At the self-satisfied moan the mayor gave in response, Emma jerked her leg, stilling anymore smugness and Regina’s back stiffened, her body going rigid and her fingers freezing their movements as Emma’s own hands guided her hips down, dictating her movements.

The virtual order from the blonde was unexpected, as was the desire Regina suddenly felt to obey, to let her actions be guided as a steady pressure built low, spreading out with every bump against the seam of her tight pants.

“Em—“ the name was bit off, became an unexpected sigh, and Regina could feel the power she’d wanted, needed, slipping again, falling around her as this blonde intruder built her passion, riling up sensations that hadn’t felt like this in decades, if ever. And she was still wearing most of her clothes.

It was retaliation, of a sort, that led her to flip them, to push Emma suddenly back, green eyes flying open in surprise, before Regina was dropping to the ground, shirt still open, breasts bared. She wore a dangerous smirk, she knew, and the smallest hint of fear crossed Emma’s eyes as Regina met them.

Sex as a weapon was nothing new for Regina, and she was tugging forcefully at the waistband of those damn skin-tight black jeans before she could even really process what she was doing. The rush of power once more, steady and strong was heady, and her eyes sparkled dangerously as she shoved the jeans as far down as they would go.

Emma was swallowing hard, her jaw tight but dropped just a bit, and she watched Regina’s movements with wide eyes. “Are you _frightened_ , dear?” It was rhetorical and unnecessary and Regina’s mouth was pressed against Emma’s thigh in an instant. A slow, open mouthed kiss, and then another smirk, “I suppose it _is_ Halloween.”

The blonde sagged down, just a bit, her back slamming against the concrete once more as full lips trailed over sensitive skin, getting achingly closer to her center. Emma was beginning to quiver from the angle, her knees shaking as Regina’s nails trailed along her flesh, to the apex of her thighs.

The sheriff was losing it, her skin heating despite the cool temperature of the room, and the full-bodied feeling of control coursed through Regina once more, Emma’s fingers falling to the nape of her neck. Their pressure was gentle, constrained, and when she looked up, the blonde’s face was open, her eyes closed as her other hand grasped helplessly against the concrete of the wall.

_Emma,_ echoed in her head, but instead she urged, “Miss Swan,” low and raspy. She looked down at Regina quickly, once, before Regina’s thumbs slid through her wetness, spreading her before she leaned forward and breathed, leaving Emma tense above her a second longer before she let her mouth drop to the heated flesh, tasting her.

“Oh, God, Regina,” Emma’s voice cracked and her knees seemed to buckle just a little, but Regina’s movements only sped up, bringing her closer and closer, her tongue circling her clit in a repetitive motion. “So, _oh_ … _please_ ,” Emma’s voice was low, almost as deep as Regina’s and the almost pained edge on the final word had Regina’s movements faltering.

There was the rush of power, again, comforting and familiar, but with it came a sharpness, a thrilling shard of something new, something _else_ , and she drew back slightly in surprise.

Emma’s eyes flew open as Regina stopped, but before either could process, Emma was dragging her up, dragging her back to run her hands over her waist and hips and ass she spun them, placing Regina back before she crushed their mouths together once more.

A plaintive sort-off squeak spilled from Regina’s lips at the forcefulness, but any sense of playfulness, any power play on Emma’s end was gone, and all it was now was urgency and need and _want_. Emma’s long fingers tugging at brown pants, pushing burgundy panties with them until her hands could cup Regina’s bare ass, squeezing just a little in a poor excuse of a punishment for leaving her still needing, still wanting.

“ _Emma,_ ” escaped her lips this time and she swallowed harshly, the realization of what she’d said, what she’d revealed making its way through the haze that felt like it was drifting over everything, over both of them. There was no response from the younger woman, though, nothing more than another gentle squeeze before she looked up, watched Regina’s face as she pushed with both hands on her bare hips.

They were standing like that, barely any space between them, for what felt like an eternity, before Emma slid her hand over the mayor’s stomach in a mirror of Regina’s own actions earlier.

Hovering over Regina’s center, she bent forward, catching Regina’s mouth with her own, her teeth trapping the brunette’s lower lip and sucking it just a little before she let it go with a near-silent _pop_. She pulled back and pressed forward at the same time, putting space between their faces so she could watch as Regina reacted, Emma’s whole palm cupping Regina’s pussy, the heel landing hard against her bared clit, distended and aching.

Regina’s actions were almost involuntary, her hips rounding, searching for more pressure as two fingers slid inside her, stretching just a little as Emma’s eyes grew darker, focused in on her.

“I was right, then, wasn’t I?” She offered no response to Emma’s question as her movements continued, her eyes darkening, too, as she gripped at the blonde’s back, dragging her forward once more to copy her movements, her fingers returning to the slick heat between Emma’s thighs.

Regina offered no response, but Emma didn’t press the question, instead leaning forward to whisper hotly against her ear, “I thought so,” the pressure of her fingers increasing to the same speed as the older woman’s.

Their movements were gaining speed, pressing harder as both were cresting, reaching for that blissful edge. Feet tangling together, shifting closer and closer, Emma let herself fall forward, pressing against Regina completely as their bodies found an even more synonymous rhythm, arms moving together as Regina’s free hand searched for more, ached to touch all of Emma in a need that was power and lust and something so much more cloying that she couldn’t name. Slipping under the thick sweater her hand cupped a full breast through the cotton bra Emma wore, her thumb rolling over the raised nipple inside.

“My, you are aching for this,” she bit, a half-assed shot at pain, at shame, maybe, that the urgency of her own hips betrayed. Both women were reaching, so close, and Regina felt a flutter low in her belly as Emma started to moan, almost whimper against her ear in the most delicate sound she’d ever heard from the tough woman beneath her, inside her.

It was vulnerability, and weakness, and the instinct to pounce on the moment was so wired that Regina did just that, slamming Emma back to a shelving unit nearby as she felt a final surge of power and pleasure and _winning_ burn through her, her walls clenching over Emma’s fingers and wetness following along with a half-contented sigh.

Emma’s own response was close to follow, her eyes flying open as the shelves bit into her back, as Regina’s hand cupped harder, surely left bruises through the bra. Regina’s eyes were open, glinting back at her and her mouth dropped open in a pained groan which sounded so much to Regina like submission, like acceptance and forfeit.

She twisted her wrist, wringing the sensations from the blonde’s body as she came down from her own peak, the heat of her release leaving Regina with a smirk of success that rivaled the almost contentment that danced across Emma’s lips.

With the urgency gone, Regina was all too aware of her bared breasts, her twisted pants, and pulled back from the other woman to catch her breath. The air around them was thick, stifling, and the mayor was brought back to that sense of confinement that made her breaths all that much shallower.

The drying stickiness on her hand as she pulled away from Emma was unpleasant, and she turned around awkwardly as she adjusted her bra, pulled her pants and panties back into place. Halfway finished with the buttons to her shirt she turned back around, where Emma had gotten her own pants into place and was bending over to reach for her discarded cat ears.

Staying silent, Regina waited for Emma to look at her, shrugging just a bit as she handed over the pink scarf she’d worn earlier. She hadn’t noticed losing it earlier, and she ran her fingers through her hair to find the normally perfect brown strands in disarray.

“So I’m to assume you’ll be resigning soon, then, Sheriff Swan?” she sneered, the rush of power fading but the hint of that other feeling, that new sensation still lingering just behind her tongue, tasting bitter and addictive. The lashing out felt natural, felt safe, and Emma’s narrowed eyes communicated that things might slip back to somewhere they’d been before rather quickly—her pointed message to get out of her town, and the blonde’s naïve belief that she was here to stay.

It shouldn’t be that way, shouldn’t be back to anything. She was right about the sheriff and she knew it—it would only be a matter of time before she’d back away, move on to a new city as before, Regina’s power over her town restored and this bubbling, burning _else_ feeling gone and buried with the memory of the woman before her.

Clearing her throat, Emma shuffled her feet, uncertain with the newness between the two. “You’ve got some, uh—“  

“ _Emma?”_ A noise from outside broke off the blonde’s thought, and Regina straightened up immediately. The reality that escape was coming, quickly, flooded her mind and she was so grateful in that moment that she could leave and figure out where this left them, left her progress in getting the blonde the hell out of her town.

Emma’s eyes widened as they looked at Regina, and she swallowed nervously. Running her hands over her hair, she cleared her throat and moved toward the door, her skinny jeans bunching from being stretched so.

“Uh,” she began, but Regina merely raised an eyebrow at her and brushed her fingers through her hair, combing it down before she retied the scarf. She watched as Emma put her face near the small window to the room, waving with a, “HERE!” shouted much louder than Regina would have liked.

“Miss Swan, I do believe that yelling on top of waving is unnecessary.”

Emma’s stiff back loosened at the reprimand as though everything was going back to “normal,” and Regina felt a small trickle of fear at who was on the other side of the door. How she hoped it wasn’t Henry—her feelings about his behavior toward Emma were still so strong, and she wasn’t ready for any more accusations against her tonight.

“Mary Margaret sees us,” she said, looking back over her shoulder for a second.

_Wonderful_ , Regina thought, but instead simply bit her tongue and waited to be let out of the too-small room. There was a moment of hesitation from Emma, the blonde eyeing Regina with a hint of something that she couldn’t quite place before she turned back, the door knob wiggling as the door creaked open.

Emma was out of the door in an instant, talking to the schoolteacher on the other side of the threshold, and Regina felt a shuddering breath leave her chest, Emma’s last look echoing in her mind.

That sharp newness of something inside her ached, piercing her with every step forward she took.

“—sorry, I just thought that, well, what with all the fighting between you two, maybe—“ Mary Margaret’s bumbling apology ended sharply, her eyes widening at Regina’s presence once the mayor had crossed the door frame to stand by the other women.

“Miss Blanchard? I expect you’ve taken good care of my son while you left us trapped in this building?” Her question was only a warning, brooking no room for any answer but a definitive _yes_ , and the schoolteacher nodded her head in agreement.

“Excellent. And where is Henry?”

Her eyes, still wide, blinked rapidly, and Regina caught a short little brow furrow as she looked to Emma at her side. “He, um, he’s in the classroom, with the other kids. What, um—“

“We’ll be on our way, then, Miss Blanchard. An excellent party,” she sneered, turning to leave after the sarcastic comment had been tossed.

“Um, Regina?” The timid woman’s voice was unusual, superior in a sense that Regina had never heard in this world, and paired with the daring use of her first name she turned slightly.

“Your nose,” she gave a weak smile, not quite a smirk but it held no sincerity, and Regina’s hand flew to her face, wiping at the tip of her nose. Her stomach dropped as she saw the black mark of face paint so clearly smeared across her fingers, and with a quickened pace she walked away from the closet quickly.


End file.
